


Beyond The Stars

by shortyy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Beyond The Stars, Chicago, England (Country), F/M, London, and mireya for him, arranged, lots of tension, mexican, niall may be falling for mireya, no love, petite girl, skinny love, so much hate, some smut later on, zayn hates mireya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortyy/pseuds/shortyy





	1. Beyond The Stars

“Wish I could freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this,

 

 

 

I’ll put this day back on replay and keep reliving it

 

 

 

‘Cause here’s the tragic truth, if you don’t feel the same

 

 

 

My heart would fall apart if someone said your name.

 

 

 

Truly, Madly, Deeply I am

 

 

 

Foolishly, completely falling

 

 

 

And somehow you kicked all my walls in

 

 

 

So baby, say you’ll always keep me

 

 

 

Truly, Madly, Deeply in love with you”

 

 

 

I sang this probably terribly off key, but hey, who cares? It’s just me in my room and I don’t care about my family hearing me sing, They're used to me singing.

 

 

 

I’m lying upside-down on my bed, laptop next to me, while hearing Take Me Home. Yes, I know what you’re all thinking, that CD is like 3 years old Mireya, why not listen to one of One Direction’s new albums?

 

 

 

Well I love all of their songs, even more the older ones because it brings back memories from those years.

 

 

 

“Which one is your favorite?” I hear my step dad, Drew, ask me.

 

 

 

I don’t bother to look up at him or to even open my eyes. I’m used to my family doing that, asking questions randomly and staying at my doorway until I answer them.

 

 

 

I've learned to just answer them and keep on doing what I’m doing, they don't bother me after that.

 

 

 

“Well, like I always tell you, Niall and Zayn, duh. I’ve told you guys a million times.” I tell him in a joking manner, laughing at the fact that they never remember who I like from the band.

 

 

 

“I’m one of her favorites then?” I hear a stranger ask sweetly, but sarcasm and hate leaking heavily from the spoken words.

 

 

 

Hold up, I know that voice anywhere…That unmistakable accent. English, and clearly from Bradford.

 

 

 

I bolt straight up at the realization and turn around, only to see Drew standing in my overly small doorway along with the one and only Zayn Malik. He’s starring at me with a weird expression on his face.

 

 

 

I have always been good with reading faces, but his just showed me a mix of annoyance, anger, sarcasm, and humor, all at the same time. I don’t know how anyone can pull of that face, but trust me, he clearly just did.

 

 

 

“Um hi?” I manage to say, super embarrassed. I mean The Zayn Malik just heard me sing one of his old songs, and even worse HIS verse, in my horrible voice.

 

 

 

“Hold up. Why are you here? I mean not to be rude but um…?” I ask, knowing my face must clearly show my horrible confusion to all of this. I mean really, why is he here? I hadn’t entered any contest or anything for Zayn to be here so this is just confusing me.

 

 

 

“Mireya, come to the sala please, we have to talk to you” Drew told me in a weary tone.

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

“Um [y1] wait what?” I ask my parents and apparently also Zayns parents, clearly confused.

 

 

 

What’s happening here, you may ask yourself? Why is this girl freaking out so much over a famous guy being at her house for no apparent reason?

 

 

 

Well I just learned that I am engaged to Zayn, and have been for 2 whole years, without anyone knowing about it, not even Zayn and I, but only his parents and Drew.

 

 

 

My mom found out yesterday night, hours before they arrived from England. Apparently my step father knew how much I liked Zayn and 3 years ago he somehow got to meet his parents on a business trip to Bradford and they became friends and kept in touch.

 

 

 

They apparently decided in phone conversations that because he talked so good of me and I was their friends daughter, I would be a good choice for Zayn to marry, and to settle down with. And so the decision that I would learn of this engagement with Zayn on my 18th birthday, was made.

 

 

 

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this.” I say standing up from the couch I had been sitting on when they had explained this to me. I couldn’t help it, I had to rush to my room.

 

I know that this is cowardly of me, but I can’t do this. I mean, I have freaking plans! I was planning in 4 months on moving to England, staying there for two years at most and then returning to California, where I was born in. But now these plans were ruined, thanks to Bert trying to choose my future for me.

 

 

 

I don’t know how long I have been here, just sitting on my bed, crying because my future is over.

 

 

 

I no longer get to choose what I do, that’s what hurts me a lot right now.

 

 

 

I can hear everyone in the sala. I swear it’s so weird for me.

 

 

 

Isn’t it ironic? I have always wanted to get married to one of the boys. I have always thought of Zayn as an idol, I have joked around so many times that I would get married to one of them, hopefully Niall or Zayn, but now that it’s actually happening; I realize that I really don't want this to happen.

 

 

 

This isn't how things were supposed to turn out like.

 

I’m not meant to get married with him, not like this, not in a loveless marriage.

 

 

 

As I raise my head, looking at the One Direction posters cluttered around my walls, I hear my door open and close, but I don’t even bother to turn and check who it is, too into my thoughts to really take any action. I can tell that it’s my mom though, it’s like an instinct to me now, I can tell by the sound of her footsteps.

 

 

 

“Mija, you have to start packing, you have to go to the hotel with them, you no longer are going to live con nosotros” my mother tells me, her emotions showing through her voice..

 

 

 

I turn to look at her for the first time since she entered my room.

 

 

 

That’s when I notice she had wheeled in with her four large suitcases and a box or two made from carton when she had entered the room.

 

 

 

I gave up hope at that moment.

 

 

 

I realized she came to bring me the suitcases so that I could start packing. This is actually official.

 

 

 

My mom going along with what Drew had decided on made me realize that there was definitely no way out of this. Once he had my mom on board, there was nothing that could get me out of this.

 

 

 

I stood up from my bed with a loud grunt and put the first suitcase on the bed, heading towards my tocador(vanity/drawer) and opened the drawers, starting to pull out my clothes and passing it to my mom to help put into the suitcase.

 

 

 

“Ma, why did this happen to me? Yeah, I love one direction and I’ve always joked que I was gonna get married to one of them pero really?

 

 

 

Drew went ahead and arranged a marriage for me when I was 16 and behind your back. I mean who does that now a day? You should be mad at him for doing that behind your back, and I’m not even his real daughter!

 

 

 

You should be mad!

 

 

 

And we're Mexicans. When have you seen a Mexican family do that? That just isn’t right mom.

 

 

 

He just took away my freedom and my future and I have no say whatsoever in this.” I argue, tears burning my eyes.

 

 

 

I have always been the strong one in the family, hardly ever crying in front of people, but this had made me forget about my “tough shell” that I always fought to keep on.

 

 

 

She just ignored me and kept on packing my clothes, like if nothing was happening and my life wasn’t going to drastically change in the next few hours, and in that moment, I felt my stomach drop and a lump in my throat formed. I didn't try to talk after that, for fear that I would start sobbing once I opened my mouth and somehow I wouldn't be able to stop after that.

 

 

 

Once we finished with the first two suitcases, she told me she was going to give me some time alone and, not waiting for an answer, she left silently, shutting the door behind her.

 

 

Ten minutes after my mom left I hear the door open again. My back is currently to the door because I’m starting to pack another suitcase.


	2. Anxiety

“You need any help?” I hear a female voice ask. 

I turn around and see that it’s Zayn’s mom that’s here. Her face shows me the empathy that my mother did not show me.

“Sure, thank you” I reply slowly, with a tiny smile to show her I appreciate her coming to help me pack up my things.

We end on packing my clothes until all the suitcases are completely full and won’t hold another single item of clothing.   
I actually like talking with her. She asks me things not related to this whole complicated situation and helps me get things out of my mind.  
She’s actually trying to get to know me which honestly I guess shouldn’t surprise me.

We fill up the carton boxes really easily with my shoes and the smaller one with my wallets, handbags, perfumes, necklaces, bracelets and rings, basically accessories. Yes I know, I have such an obsession with these things that I have to have like a hundred of each, but it’s what I like. 

We finally finish and wheel the suitcases near my door and move the boxes too while I get my box of makeup and fill up my purse with my IPod, charger, laptop, phone and other little essentials I need with me at all times.

Suddenly, my soon-to be mother in law surprises me with a question I’m not sure I’m ready to answer, at least to her.

“Mireya, how did Zayn treat you the moment that he met you? What was your first impression of him?”

I am left gaping at her. Honestly, I’m not sure how to answer her. Truthfully, he made a horrible first impression on me, but if I tell Tricia this, I’m not sure how she’s going to take it. 

She looks at me, and almost too soon a knowing look comes upon her face, and a small and sad smile appears on her face, it’s almost grim.

“You can tell me, I’ll understand if he did something bad, I’m just curious hunny.” 

I hesitantly let out a deep breath and put my head down.

“He was very sarcastic and rude, kind of diva-ish honestly. He just glared at me with such a hateful look, Tricia, I don’t know if I can really do this. This is such a big thing and I don’t even know what to think or feel anymore.”

“Mireya, I know this is all huge news to you, and it probably feels like if its life ending. I know you must feel as if your life is over, but I want to ask you, how do you really feel about all of this? I want you to know you can trust me and tell me anything, like I just told you. Think of me as a second mother if you will. Whatever you tell me, trust me, I wont get bothered. I know you must have the need to get this all off your shoulders..” She tells me, her eyes and face showing that she really means it and really cares about what I am currently feeling.

“Miss, I don’t know what to feel” I answer her honestly and boldly. “I mean, it’s every Directioner’s dream to get to marry one of the boys, and like you can see I am a true Directioner. But to have this thrown at you when you have barely finished school is something drastic.

I had plans miss, plans that I will have to miss out on now that I don’t have a say in my life. Now I will have to cancel all of these plans that I’ve had for many years. Having an arranged marriage is life changing because it makes me feel like if I have no say in what I do or decide to do with my life.

I was planning on moving to London in four months, staying there for around two years, while also visiting Ireland, Italy, Spain, Greece, all those places, and then moving back to California, where I was born.

But now that’s all a dream, an impossible dream that I will never get to live because my future has been planned out by my parents and no disrespect intended, you and your husband too.

All of this has me light headed and emotional and confused and scared. 

Though what scares me the most is that Zayn will end up being a jerk to me and rude and won’t get along with me, because that will just make my life more miserable than it already is. And already he’s started acting like that with me.

And well I’m sad that even though it wouldn’t have happened anyways, I’ll never get to have a slight chance with Niall, because I’m currently an engaged women, and worse to his friend, or plainly to anyone else.

This all just has me lost, angry, sad, and making me feel all these other feelings. 

That is how I feel right now.” I tell her, though the last part came out in a whisper. I can’t believe I just told her all of this, a lady I don’t even know that good, has gained my trust in so little time, more time than her son who is my future husband. But it feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. 

I had started to look straight ahead at my wall while having my little rant, in a way staring at my posters, but not really staring at them at the same time. The words that were spilling form my mouth just a few moments ago make me scared to look at Tricia.

I have just told her how I was scared her son would be a jerk to me, and how from the beginning he actually was one to me, and how we wouldn’t get along. That must have dropped me down her favorite list to number one million and something.

She suddenly takes hold of my hand, making me look up at her.

“Mireya, I want you to know that you have nothing to worry about. Zayn is a very sweet lad. If he ever does anything to you or tells you anything you don’t like, feel free to come over to my house and I will punish him for being so rude to such a beautiful girl like you. I’ll even let you hit him with the broom.” She told me laughing a little.

That last part made me laugh and realize that I would get along with her a lot during my marriage with Zayn. She really did act like a mother with everyone and was very sweet. She gave me some hope that everything would be okay with Zayn and that there wasn’t much to worry about.

“Now come on let’s get going, I am really jet lagged.” Tricia exclaimed, laughing.

I got up and exited my room with her, suddenly anxious to how everyone would react to me finally coming out of my room with Tricia and ready to move on from my life and start living with Zayn, my fiancée.


	3. The Deciept

“Mireya is finally ready to go.” Tricia says, and everyone in the house turns around.

I notice that my cousin Sammy is here, as well as some of my step dad’s family are here with their children, congratulating Zayn and waiting for me to come out of my room after I finished packing.

In a matter of seconds all my family is coming towards me, congratulating me on my very good looking fiancée and saying how they are going to miss me now that I’m moving to England with him. 

They’re so excited for me that they ask to take a few pictures of Zayn and I before we leave to their hotel.

“Mija! Agárralo! Están comprometidos! Pues… enseñen que se quieren!” one of my aunts shouted out, embarrassing me.

(It means to grab him, you guys are engaged. Well, show you guys love each other)

I guess she has a point; I have made it clear that I’m going to stand at the far right corner of the group while he is on the far left corner of the group.

Once the family saw this, they hurriedly changed our positions so that now I can be next to Zayn and not all the way across the room from him.

They move me and him right in the center and all of a sudden Tricia whispers to us.

“Hug each other” she whispered. Zayn turned and gave me a fast glance showing his annoyance and disgust, that apparently only I noticed and then hugged me by the waist, acting like if he didn’t just send me that glare.

He turns towards the camera and gives a huge smile, same as I; fooling everyone into thinking we’re a loving couple.

It seems that a whole ten hours had passed since I left my room, though when I checked, only two hours have passed. Though throughout those two hours, I’ve been stuck next to Zayn, forced to hug him, hold his hand, smile and take many pictures. In some they wanted us to kiss, though we said he had a throat infection, as a way to save us from experiencing that cold, unloving kiss we would have to share.

Finally we hopped into their rented car; a beautiful 2012 Toyota Sequoia. I hopped in and sat on the opposite of Zayn, all the way in the back, since his parents were sitting in the middle of the car, while there was a driver all the way in the front humming to himself.

I have a feeling that this is Tricia’s attempt at getting us to talk and get to know each other but it is just making everything awkward for everyone in the car.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Zayn was practically sitting on the armrest of the huge seat we were sitting on, obviously trying to get as much space between us two as possible.

‘Well rest assured Zayn, I’m trying to do exactly the same thing’ I grumble in my mind.

Once we get to the hotel, which might I say is the fanciest thing I have ever been in, we head up to the rooms.

“You two will share the same room so go on Zayn, take her things to your room” His father tells us while handing Zayn all the suitcases I brought with me and putting the two boxes outside what I’m guessing is our suite.

The look on Zayn’s face when his father said that to him, oh if looks could kill, I would have fallen dead at the sight.

After he opened the door, I picked up the smaller box and walk in, putting it on the floor by the entrance. I then turn to grab two of my suitcases. I don’t want Zayn hating on me even more because I simply watch him struggle with something knowing that I can help him out.

Once we get everything inside the suite he turns on the lights.

The room we were staying in was huge, fancy and amazing. It even had a chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. I am impressed.

The fanciest place I’ve stayed in had a lumpy mattress so this is a huge change for me.

I hear Zayn telling me under his breath to close my mouth unless I want a fly to enter it. That quickly made me turn and glare at him. I can’t believe this asswhole! I storm off into what I’m guessing is the ensuite. Luckily, I’m right and once inside I take the chance to look at myself in the mirror. 

My outfit and eye make-up are perfect, but the look in my eyes makes me look crazy and just plain pissed. I exit the bathroom to find Zayn on the phone texting while lying on the bed.

I take this as my opportunity to grab my clothes to shower and my essentials for the bathroom.

I also grab my Ihome and iPod to plug then in while I shower. Might as well hear music while showering. It’s become a habit over the years.

I decide against some of my usual one direction music and play my Spanish playlist. All during my shower you can hear me singing my corridos and rancheras, knowing that they would help annoy Zayn and, they are my favorite type of Mexican music, so why not enjoy both wins?

I come out of the bathroom after a well enjoyed shower to find Zayn very mad sitting on the bedside edge, clothes in a pile next to him. I smile and head to the couch that is across from him. I turn on my iPod and plug in the earphones. I may have one of the oldest iPods around now, but I love it. It’s an iPod classic, but has never stopped working in the seven years that I have used it.

I start to hum along to the song I had paused before going out of the bathroom. 

Zayn turns to me suddenly.

“Stop fucking singing that shit!” he screams at me. I just stare at him. This fucking 23 year old is screaming at the top of his lungs just because I’m freaking humming?

“Asshole” I tell him.

I swear, once the words left my mouth, he turned red as a tomato. Let me tell you… I never thought anyone with his skin color could turn that red.

He comes storming up to me and roughly picks me up off the couch by the arm.

“The fuck did you just call me?” he asks, venom dripping from his mouth.

“You heard me right, you fucker. I called you an asshole because that is exactly what you are. 

A complete asshole. Now excuse you, because I was doing something before you very rudely interrupted me” I say while bending down to pick up my IPod that fell when he pulled me up.

The look on his face? PRICELESS.

You do not know how hard it was for me to keep a straight face and not just burst out laughing.

I have made it my goal to annoy Zayn beyond this world. Hopefully like this, I won’t have to deal with him and my marriage with him can maybe be, I don’t know, just like those open marriages? I’ll have to talk to him about this one of these days, get us to date other people like that…

Yeah that’s a great plan but right now, make him stay mad. I glare at him, hoping he will turn away and leave me alone.


	4. My Mistake

“You know what? Fuck this, come on lets go to bed.” He tells me, sounding annoyed and exhausted at me giving him such a hard time.

“Excuse you? Umm I’m not sleeping on that bed with you. I rather sleep on this couch than be with your jerk ass all night long.” I tell him with my sassiest voice. 

I’m not kidding though. I will not sleep with him because I know myself. Whenever I sleep with someone, doesn’t matter who, I will just snuggle up to them while I’m sleeping. I’m known for doing that with my friends. Whenever we had sleepovers I would always end up snuggled up to whoever was next to me.

Because of this, I’m actually scared to sleep on the same bed as him. I mean from what I have heard, he’s a cuddler too and the thought of me snuggling up to him now that I know and have seen how he is, well it’s just disgusting to me.

Sure any other Directioner would jump at this chance, but with the way he’s acting with me? Uh no thank you, I’m not up for it.

“No, you’re sleeping on the bed with me. 

I don’t give a fuck what you say, you are sleeping on that bed, and I am sleeping next to you. My parents have an extra key card for the suite. They expect us to sleep together, and that is exactly what we will do. 

I’m tired of them treating me like I’m still a seventeen year old. 

And I bet tomorrow early morning, they will be in here checking that we managed to like each other enough so that we slept at least on the same bed.” He tells me while proceeding to go and pick me up against my will, bridal style and ignoring my refusal to go with him.

As much as I tried to struggle to get down, he wouldn’t hear me. He just kept on walking to the bed. He dropped me down on the bed and then laid down himself, on the other side. Once he put up the covers we turned, backs facing each other. I have to admit, the flimsy cover we had on is not enough. 

Outside, it’s the middle of the summer, and Chicago summers are super-hot and humid. They are just plain horrible, honestly. The humidity is so horrible you could literally drink the moisture out of the air.

But the inside of the hotel must be like under zero degrees. It’s freezing in here, you can even see your own breath when you talk or breath.

I turn, annoyed that I have to do this, and get closer to Zayn.

“Zayn, I’m cold.” I whisper, knowing that he isn’t asleep just yet.

“Yeah? And what do you want me to do about that?” he asks he harshly.

I can’t help it, I’m cold and decide to ignore his rude ass and get closer to his back and just cuddle up. My front is against his back. He hasn’t turned, but it helps get some warmth to my cold body.

He doesn’t move from the position he’s in, but I don’t give a fuck, im not asking him to cuddle me up, I’m too sleepy to care about him not cuddling me, after all, what I want is just some heat, not a cuddle from this jerk next to me.

I wake up suddenly, aware that it was the middle of the night, for no apparent reason. I realize that I have an arm wrapped tightly around my waist. Its Zayn’s muscular arm. I feel his light breaths on the back of my neck and shoulder, where his head is currently resting, and his chest moving against my back with every breath he takes.

As much as I hate the thought of him touching me, I don't attempt to move away from him and his overwhelming body heat. The room still feels like if the A/C is on full blast, so I decide to just go back to sleep.

I try not to think about the fact that this fucker’s touching me, though I AM the one who wrapped my arms around him before falling asleep, so I think I have a hand in him deciding to snuggle up to me. 

I try to just think about the heat radiating off of his body, the heat that's keeping my ass from freezing in this hotel room from the motherfucking Arctic. I start to think about my previous life plans, before all of this shit got thrown at me.

I try to imagine that Zayn never came to my house this morning, that the bomb wasn't thrown at me about me marrying this man I don't even know, this man I don’t want to know at all, and that my life is now ruined. 

I try to think that this whole thing basically never happened, that I’m still in my old bed at home, with almost no worries, and I slowly start to drift off back to sleep.

The last thing I remember before falling into the unconscious void that is sleep, is feeling myself snuggling up to Zayn, even more than I thought was possible, and him tightening his hold on me and snuggling his head even deeper into the space where my neck and shoulder connects.  
***  
"Wake up" I hear a gruff voice mumble to me angrily while shaking me, practically making me roll off the bed.

"Stop it" I mumble. the room is freezing, and the fact that I just remembered that I have to be in the same room 24/7 with Zayn simply irritates me, not including the fact that he acts like if I'm below him, like an animal or something.

He really has no respect for me, he’s acting like a child

"Wake the fuck up already, you gotta shower, mom and dad want to go to breakfast before we head for the airport". He says, all of this while glaring at me, his brown eyes filled with ice cold venom, his face filled with stubble and his mouth in a horrible frown that really doesn't suit him. Not at all.


	5. Emotions

I try to return the icy glare and frown that he’s giving me, mad that he manages to piss me off so early in the morning. 

Apparently it worked because he growls, squinting his eyes even more than before, and turns to go sit on the couch.

I stand to get my clothes and toiletries, heading straight for the bathroom.

I look at myself in the mirror and tears start to slowly fall from my eyes.

The girl's eyes starring back at me aren't mine. They look cold, lost, tired, with no ounce of happiness in them.

Is this how my whole life is going to be now? Is waking up next to Zayn for the rest of my life going to be this bad? Or worse?

I don't want this, I don't want to live my life in this hell provided by Zayn.

I look away from the mirror and start to slowly and gingerly take my clothes off while I wait for the water to cool enough for me to be able to stand the heat. 

The tears keep falling down my cheeks until I finally get into the shower and the tears start to mix with the water running over my skin.

After a few minutes my muscles start to relax under the nice and warm water and I start to shave and then scrub my body with my delicious smelling body wash, helping me to calm down a little bit, though not completely.

After I’m finally done with my shower, I just stand there, letting the water just pour over all of my body, enjoying the simplicity of water massaging your body.

All of a sudden, I hear the door open and see Zayn's body approaching the shower. I look out from the shower curtain, using it to cover my naked body.

"The fuck do you think you're doing? Who told you that you could walk in here while I'm fucking taking a shower, you cunt!!" I scream to him in rage.

I can't believe this asshole seriously thinks that he can seriously just stroll into the fucking bathroom while I’m fucking taking a shower. 

The dumb fuck seriously just walking in on me showering, I can't believe this.  
He smirks that smirk of his that I remember I once used to love, though it’s causing a different reaction from me right now.

He keeps on smirking at me while I glare at his face, not up for his stupid games this early in the morning and even less while I'm standing naked in the shower less than 3 feet away from him, the only thing separating us being a super thin, white, almost transparent shower curtain, which let me tell you, isn’t giving me much of an advantage.

"You've been in here for a fucking hour, I'm getting tired of waiting for your lazy ass to get out of the shower" he tells me, his face slowly going from that calm smirk that was plastered on his face, to a look of anger, getting noticeably angrier with each passing second.

This has me smirking now, seeing the chance to irritate him as much as he irritates me.

"Well if you were to leave the bathroom, then I could hurry and get my 'lazy ass' out the shower, you ass" I say, my anger slowly returning, and getting the best of me too.

"Fine then but hurry up cause I want to eat already" is the last thing he tells me while leaving the bathroom, having have given up.  
Ugh, this asshole really gets on my nerves. I don't know what to expect from him anymore. Everything’s a surprise so far with him, and I've barely met him yesterday.


End file.
